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Oppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips), 1866-1946

"The Yellow Crayon"

Yet here
at least, if anywhere in the world, we should all meet upon equal
ground. Music is a universal leveler."
"And we haven't a chance," Lady Carey remarked with uplifted
eyebrows, "of listening to a bar of it."
Lucille welcomed the newcomer coldly. Nevertheless, he manoeuvred
himself into the place by her side. She took up her fan and
commenced swinging it thoughtfully.
"You are surprised to see me here?" he murmured.
"Yes!" she admitted.
He looked wearily away from the stage up into her face.
"And I too," he said. "I am surprised to find myself here!"
"I pictured you," she remarked, "as immersed in affairs. Did I
not hear something of a Radical ministry with you for Premier?"
"It has been spoken of," he admitted.
"Then I really cannot see," she said, "what you are doing here."
"Why not?" he asked doggedly.
She shrugged her shoulders.
"In the first place," she said, "you ought to be rushing about
amongst your supporters, keeping them up to the mark, and all that
sort of thing. And in the second--"
"Well?"
"Are we not the very people against whom you have declared war?"
"I have declared war against no people," he answered. "It is
systems and classes, abuses, injustice against which I have been
forced to speak. I would not deprive your Order of a single
privilege to which they are justly entitled.


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